


What's in a Name

by Chrissy24601



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Established Relationship, Javert's one name, Jean le Cric, M/M, Monsieur Madeleine - Freeform, Post-Seine, The Beggar who gives Alms, Ultime Fauchelevent, and all Valjean's other names
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-28
Updated: 2014-03-16
Packaged: 2018-01-14 02:11:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1248853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chrissy24601/pseuds/Chrissy24601
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Javert reflects on the many different names his lover answers to, and the one he will never say out loud. </p><p>Now with its counterpart, in which Valjean reflects on the various names he cannot call Javert.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Jean Valjean had had many names over the years. 

For years, Javert had cursed the many aliases. Every name seemed to rouse the image of a different man: Madeleine was a gentleman and a saint, Jean le Cric a dangerous monster. It had been hard for Javert to navigate between those extremes, never knowing exactly who he was facing whenever they had confronted each other. It had gotten only more difficult to track his quarry when the man had taken on further new names after coming to Paris. The Beggar Who Gives Alms, Monsieur LeBlanc or whatever that snivelling student had called him… And those were not even the aliases Valjean used for himself. 

But after a particularly faithful – and very wet - night in June, Javert had learned the benefits of Valjean’s aptitude to answer to different names. He had even come to appreciate it. As a spy, Javert was trained to use code words. The use of a specific word in a specific situation could tell volumes to those who knew what its significance was. Instinctively, he had begun to use the names he called his unlikely lover in a similar fashion.

In public, of course, Javert would address him as Fauchelevent. That was after all the name stated on Valjean’s false papers. It was the name Javert liked least, because he kept tripping over the pronunciation. He often forgot it, too, which could be quite embarrassing. No, if the situation allowed it, he much preferred to address Valjean as ‘M’sieur’ whenever they were in public. It was polite, proper and gave nothing away about their relationship. It was a good name, especially since Valjean had taken to interpret the slightly informal pronunciation as a term of endearment. Javert had taken to using it as such. 

But as soon as they got home, those names were left by the door. Between themselves Javert had a whole range of different names for Valjean, although there were a few he was more partial to than others.

When they first lived together, it had seemed logical to call him ‘Valjean’ and be done with it. However, as their relationship progressed to what Cosette had termed ‘a married couple’, Javert had come to reserve that name for moments of extreme irritation. Bellowing it at full force made for a terrific resonance and one very nervous Valjean. Javert swore he’d never tell Valjean just how adorable the man looked in those moments.

True to the ‘married couple’ analogy, Valjean could be awfully fussy about little things. Especially just before any visit from Cosette and her husband, he would lecture Javert about what to say and what most definitely not to say. Or do. Or imply. The first time around, Javert had listened. The second time he had rolled his eyes. The third time, he’d clipped a formal ‘Oui, Monsieur le Maire’ while snapping to attention. Valjean had gawked at that before bursting out in laughter. Since then, Monsieur le Maire knew to leave well enough alone when Javert addressed him as such.

There were so many other names he might use to address the man he loved, but when they were close enough to touch, Javert would always call him by his Christian name. Divested of all those different aliases, ‘Jean’ was pure and uncomplicated; the only viably real name his lover had. It made the man unspeakably vulnerable, which was why Javert preferred to whisper it, treating it as the symbol of trust that it was. What he had done to earn that trust, he would never know. He only knew he would not betray it. 

And because of that silent vow, there was one name in his arsenal that would remain unused for the rest of their days. It wasn’t even a name as such, but rather a cruel sound that was meant to take its place.  
Yet sometimes, when they were in the master bedroom and his lover drove into him with all the ferocity of his inhuman strength, Javert felt himself slip. He always caught the sound before more than the first syllable could cross his lips, but even so it was a very fortunate thing that in the throes of passion, ‘deux’ and ‘Dieu’ sounded almost alike.


	2. The one name of Javert

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At the request of OP and several others: the counterpart to the first chapter, in which Valjean contemplates Javert's name.

All his life Jean Valjean had gone by different names. After his parole, he had had a host of aliases, but even before the guards and inmates of Toulon had called him ‘Jean le Cric’, more fragile voices had called him ‘Uncle Jean’.

Names have the magical quality to appeal to different parts of a person. This was true for him, but also for Cosette: her official name was Eufrasie, yet she preferred to be called by her gentler nickname, while as a child she had been known as ‘the lark’. And these days even Marius had different names to whisper in her ear.

To Valjean, names reflecting the various aspects of a man’s character was crucial to understand himself; what he had been and had become. That made it all the more frustrating that his lover seemed to have only one. Javert was far too complex a person to capture in one name alone! Yet Valjean could find no other. Not for lack of trying, though.

In the past, he had often referred to Javert as ‘inspector’. That was natural, because Javert had always embodied his duty rather than merely performing it. But since retirement had followed his failed suicide attempt, Javert had refused to answer to his title. Whenever Valjean addressed him thus, intentionally or out of habit, Javert would blatantly ignore it until Valjean corrected himself. Valjean thought the silence treatment a bit childish, but on the other hand he did respect Javert’s decision to break with his past to thoroughly – with their past. A past in which they were enemies. If not calling Javert ‘inspector’ was a price to pay for being together, Valjean would gladly pay it.

That did, however, limit his options severely. Even use of the polite ‘monsieur’ got complicated, because the part of Valjean that was still Monsieur Madeleine could not call Javert ‘monsieur’ without adding ‘l’inspecteur’ to it. He did his best, but he’d had to bite his tongue more than once. Old habits died hard, it would seem. In the end it was easier to just call the man by his name whenever they were in company.

Indeed, in company ‘Javert’ sufficed. The befit the man’s public front: clipped, factual, almost cold. But Valjean knew that there was more to his lover. Much more. Surely his first name would reflect that diversity?

Not quite. Back when they had grown closer, he had asked Javert after his first name, only to be told with a gruff that there was none. In a strange way, that made sense. Born in prison, Javert had never been baptised as a child, and as an adult had never seen the point of such ceremony. So when the population registers were first introduced, he had only entered that one name. Thus it had become his first and last name. His _only_ name.

Valjean despaired. All he wanted was something he could call his lover that would bridge the distance forced on them by public decency. He had noticed how Javert would only ever call him ‘Jean’ when they were alone and close enough to touch. If nothing else, he wanted an equally intimate name to reply with.

In the absence of one, Valjean sometimes resorted to terms of endearment instead. He was careful not to be too sentimental in his choice, venturing no further than ‘mon cher’ or, if he felt bold, ‘mon coeur’. Nevertheless Javert had made it clear that he considered such names demeaning. He never used them himself and only tolerated Valjean’s use of them to indulge his lover. In return, Valjean refrained from calling on that indulgence unless he really couldn’t help it. Which wasn’t all that often anymore.

Ultimately, when push came to shove, the only name Javert truly responded to was just that: ‘Javert’. Nothing more, nothing less.

So Valjean differentiated in the only way that was left to him: by intonation. He would state the name in public; snap it when he was annoyed; plead it when he was worried; purr it when he teased; and some nights he would scream it in ecstasy as he came. In those moments, Valjean wished there was a name for his lover that only he knew, a name that he didn’t have to share with the rest of the world.

But then what name would that be? Although he had tried over and over, he couldn’t say. In truth, he had no choice but to accept that for all his lover’s many facets, Javert was simply ‘Javert’. Whatever Valjean might call him, in public or in private, no sound would ever describe Javert as completely as that one name that was truly his.


End file.
